


viola dulcis

by latt



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Ancient Rome, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-16
Updated: 2020-05-16
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:41:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24206854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/latt/pseuds/latt
Summary: Noctis is ruler of the sprawling Roman Empire but right now all he cares about are the three days of relaxation he has with this advisor.
Relationships: Noctis Lucis Caelum/Ignis Scientia
Comments: 3
Kudos: 34
Collections: The Ignoct Indoor Gift Exchange





	viola dulcis

**Author's Note:**

> For the Ignoct Indoor Gift Exchange; I hope you like this Ash <3

“Noct?”

The emperor hums and turns around under the sheets. He loves his advisor, truly he does, but damn the stars, it is way too early.

“Dear heart, this better be Hannibal at the gates,” he mumbles. A soft sigh tickles his ear.

“I do recall last night that you demanded that I wake you before sunrise.”

“Last night, I didn’t realize how...pliable you would be.” His lips twitch in amusement when the man groans. That is until pre-dawn light sears his eyes as Ignis yanks the sheets off his body.

“Iiiiggyyyyy,” he moans, pulling a pillow over his head. Lithe fingers pluck his saving grace and ends up peering into beautiful green eyes.

“Mhmm,” Ignis brushes a thumb over Noctis’s bottom lip, “Keep sounding like that and we might not get to the piers in time—“

Noctis shoots up, effectively shoving Ignis to the side. “The markets!”

“Ah, then you do remember.” Ignis glides from his side and begins feeling for the chest that contained Noct’s tunics.

“The lightest one, Iggy. Already feels hot today.” Ignis hums in acknowledgment and Noct squints his eyes before catching sight of the lavender garment that the man throws his way.

Noctis wrinkles his nose but knows not to argue. 

The fish markets were not too far from this house, an abode lent by a junior senator. Ignis is attached to the hip that’s for sure. This is a strict holiday with his lover. No guards to protect them but a cutpurse would be no match for them anyway. And this close to the elite districts with their paid watchmen...you were as sooner run into a loaner than an honest criminal.

Noctis impatiently withstood Ignis’s fussing but three rings are enough. “Really, any more and people would think I stole half the treasury,” he snaps.

“You do well to remember—“

Noctis plucks Ignis’s hands from the jewelry box (when did he pack that?) and tries his most placating smile. “Three days, my love. Then when we return, you and the servants can dress me like a peacock.” The responding smirk sends his heart thudding rapidly so he looks away.

“You will look quite marvelous in a blue silk tunic,” Ignis purrs before returning to the jewelry box and snapping it shut.

Noctis had no intention of letting *that* happen but nods along, shooing Ignis into the atrium. He stiffly walks out to the small courtyard, where Pelna and Libertus play a game of knuclebones over a scrap of cloth. 

_Emperors walk Noctis, not run like a naughty child. Ignis’s words knock about his skull as he forces himself to chat with the guards._ They’re a friendly sort, and he really likes them: they were trusted enough to be the only ones to accompany them to Ostia. _But the markets!_ The fishermen would be coming in soon and Ignis had promised him a “feast of the sea unlike what you have ever experienced”. The catch? Waking up early enough to have the best pick of the day.

Ignis finally appears holding several oiled cloth bags. “Shall we?”

** II **

The noble classes would stick their nose up here. Or, likely, they wouldn’t be caught dead here anyway: they would send their slaves so they wouldn’t have to deal with the stink of the harbor. But this is what he lived for.

Merchants screeching their prices, two hungry dogs eyeing up a beef flank ignored by the butcher, who is busy yelling at a red-faced woman.

“Too high for that rotted pig!” She snarls.

Noctis does not hear how the argument plays out as Ignis pulls him along to a stall. This one is situated almost right off the cement platform, and three sunburnt sailors are hauling the day’s catch onto the table. Next to the that sits the most shriveled hag he’d ever seen but her eyes are sharp and her hair is as black as pitch.

“This is Mariana,” the woman tugs her shawl tighter around her thin frame. “Her sons are excellent fishermen, and she an even better haggler.”

“Scientia!” she barks, “Flattery doesn’t suit a copper whore, and neither do you. Get on with whatever it is yous looking to buy.”

Noctis stands there, horror crawling up his face. _Who was this woman?!_ Ignis is a respected senator, right-hand man of the emperor no less. Surely this pitted skeleton would know this! But Ignis only smiles toothlessly and bobs his head before he sets to picking out some fish and a few crabs.

They meander through some other stalls but the day _is_ hot and Noctis’s tunic begins sticking to his skin. Ignis is no better as his cheeks color with red and the ends of his hair starts to curl with sweat. He longs for a cool bath, ideally with Ignis in his arms. He opens his mouth to say as much when Ignis makes one last purchase and motions to the dock entrance. 

“Thank gods, because I’m melting.”

** III **

Noctis submerges his head into the crystal clear water; he can hear the echo of the tiny splashes before the rush takes over. He counts to thirty before rising up again.

Ostia is not far from Rome; in fact it’s a vital port that connects the city to the Tyrrhenian Sea. And while the palace and its poison were not as far he hoped, the waterfront city was a compromise with Ignis. Well...technically it was a way to balance his wish to abandon the title and sequester himself to a cabin near a large lake where he could spend his days fishing and making love to Ignis *and* ruling over the sprawling empire.

_It is my duty, to my dying breath, that you remain on that fucking throne because gods help us, you will NOT squander a decades worth of effort_.

So, three days was all they could afford right now as they had just finished a lengthy law draft and a delegation from Tenebrae is set to arrive in just a week.

Noctis dips lower, blowing bubbles into the water. He feels himself edge closer to what Prompto had termed “poetic moods”. His mouth twitches, remembering how his closest friends went to great lengths to describe his dark, sullen episodes. He’d drunk too much beer so who won that night—

“Noctis, darling, you’ll turn into a prune,” Ignis sighs as he quietly walks across the tiles and kneels by him.

Just like that, the dark cloud disappears. “Prunes are almost wines and you like that so that means—“

Ignis slips lithe fingers into his damp hair and pulls. “I will need more than the wines in the whole peninsula in order to deal with you.”

Noctis grumbles but still gets out, turning around and capturing Ignis’s face in his hands. “You should have joined me.”

“Well you decided on no servants, so I had to cook us dinner.”

“You smell like fish,” Noctis presses his lips into Ignis’s and he’s as malleable as ever.

“Please, get dressed and we’ll eat. Afterwards, I’ll bathe.” The lilt at the end of Ignis’s words sends a hot shiver up his spine.

He pulls away and he couldn’t help his easy grin.

** IV **

The day was ending; yes, they had another two days but the last day rarely counted as they had to prepare their departure and leave before dark.

Ignis was clean and nosing up his neck. 

Noctis didn’t want to ruin their after-dinner peace so he settled on plucking some of the violets that spilled from the raised garden bed.

The terrace affords them an unobstructed view all the way to the harbor. A light breeze skims the day’s heat and the wine in his belly makes him sleepy. Lying on the grass had been a surprising but welcomed suggestion from Ignis.

The hand sliding up his leg and definitely under his tunic only sinks Noctis further into their cozy atmosphere.

A gentle squeeze and he melts. “Please.”

** V **

Ignis would say it is a sacrilege to wake up after noon. 

Noctis, however, knows it’s sacrilege to disturb him when he’s clearly so blissful in his rest. 

Two more days.

Two more days before the delegation wreaked havoc in their city and duties.

But right now, Ignis sleeps. And so Noctis gently sweeps away dark blonde hair, smiling when Ignis nuzzles into this chest. This is enough after all.

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you think! Was trying something a little different :3


End file.
